


there IS such a thing as a Greywaren

by hollyanneg



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Adam is Calvin, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - A Wrinkle in Time Fusion, Dream Shenanigans, Friends to Lovers, Hypnotism, M/M, Missing Persons, POV Ronan Lynch, Ronan is Meg, Slow Burn, you don't have to have read AWIT to follow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:55:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28993284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyanneg/pseuds/hollyanneg
Summary: Ronan Lynch’s dad has been missing for months after his latest business trip turned sinister. Armed with some clues from the ladies of Fox Way, Ronan and Matthew go on a mission to save their father, with a little help from their new friends Adam and Blue.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 15
Kudos: 22





	1. Persephone

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 2 is ready to go and will be posted soon. I hope to post once a week or so after that.
> 
> There WILL be romantic bits!
> 
> No apologies for Niall's bad behavior here, don't worry!

None of it would’ve happened if Ronan hadn’t gotten suspended from school. He pointed that out as often as possible, later on.

Honestly, he owed a small debt of gratitude for Kavinsky for provoking him in the hallway after third period by calling him a dirty Irish bastard. There were certain insults Ronan could ignore, but anything involving his family or heritage merited an immediate punch in the face. Actually, he got in three punches before a teacher dragged them apart.

If he hadn’t gotten suspended, he wouldn’t have gone home early. If he hadn’t gone home early, Matthew wouldn’t have asked him for a ride into town. If they’d never gone into town, they wouldn’t have run into Adam Parrish—literally.

-

Ronan hadn’t slept the night before. That was nothing new; he’d had trouble sleeping ever since his father disappeared.

But that night was particularly awful—the wind howling and the rain pounding on the windows. It felt like the end of the world. He was freezing even under the covers. By 1:00 in the morning, he gave up on sleeping and went downstairs for a snack, only to find his whole family gathered in the kitchen. Their mother was boiling milk for cocoa, and Declan was slapping together sandwiches. Everybody’d had the same idea, apparently.

Declan handed him a ham-n-cheese without a word. Declan talked less since their dad was gone, and when he did open his mouth, it was usually to say something like, _we’re better off this way_. Ronan had punched him several times lately, too.

Their mother, Aurora, was the same as always, steady and loving. She promised their father would come back—even though nobody had heard from him in months. Sometimes they caught her staring out the window, down their long driveway, waiting for him to come racing around a curve like he’d done so many times.

Matthew was about the same too—cheerful and unconcerned. He believed in their mother’s optimism, while Ronan and Declan exchanged looks behind both their backs. _How are they still so sure?_

Matthew was the only one talking as they sat and ate—chattering blithely about his friends at school, about somebody’s new skateboard and someone else’s trip to Hawaii. Ronan could never remember their names.

Ronan nearly jumped out of his skin at a sudden, loud crack of thunder. Then jumped again when the next bolt of lightning illuminated a figure outside, looking in their window. “Who the fuck--?”

Aurora opened her mouth to scold him for swearing, then closed it again when she saw what he saw. Declan was already out of his seat, darting into the mudroom to grab Matthew’s baseball bat.

The person disappeared from the window, and then there was a knock at the back door. They all exchanged glances. They weren’t going to let this person in, were they?

But then Matthew, mouth full of sandwich, said, “I think it’s Persephone. She said she’d visit.”

“Who?” said Declan.

“No one’s visiting in the middle of a freaking thunderstorm,” said Ronan, censoring himself for his mother’s sake.

“No, really, it looked like her in the window,” Matthew said, obviously unconcerned.

The knock came again.

“We ought to see if the person needs help,” said Aurora, but she didn’t sound convinced.

She, Declan, and Ronan, ventured to the door as one body. Declan had the bat poised. Aurora opened the door just a crack. All Ronan could see was bushy, white-blond hair.

“Can we help you?” his mother asked timidly.

A pleasantly distracted-sounding voice came from outside. “Oh, yes, I wondered if I might come in from the storm for a moment. I wouldn’t ask except that I realized I was at Matthew’s house.”

“Matthew,” Declan called behind him, “come see if you know this person.”

He came, peeked around the door, and said, “Well of course! It’s Persephone, like I told you.”

They let her in. She was wearing a long, black coat, soaked through, and tall rainboots. She left them in the mudroom; underneath was an equally long dress made up of several different fabrics—Ronan saw paisley, stripes, and polka dots, among other things. Her bright hair fell to her waist, sopping wet too.

Persephone sat down at the table and took the cup of cocoa Aurora offered her. She blew on it delicately, then said, “I would’ve loved some of that Colombian coffee, but this will warm me up just fine.”

Ronan glanced at the counter, and as he suspected, his father’s Colombian coffee wasn’t sitting out. It was in the pantry, because no one else drank it. He suppressed a shiver.

“How exactly do you know my brother?” Declan asked suspiciously. For fucking once, he and Ronan were on the same page. This weirdo was not to be trusted.

But Matthew answered, as enthusiastic as ever. “She’s Blue’s aunt! They walk dogs! I had to stop and see the dogs, obviously.”

“Who’s Blue?” asked Declan.

“Darling, when was this?” Aurora asked.

“When I went for a walk after school one day.”

“You went for a walk? By yourself? Where were your brothers?” Aurora’s voice had gone up an octave, but she was trying not to seem _too_ worried in front of the strange visitor.

“Mom,” said Declan in a tight voice, “we talked about this.”

_This,_ presumably, was Matthew’s tendency to wander off at odd times, sometimes in the middle of class or the middle of a conversation. After school was actually a bit less of an issue. But Ronan and Declan had spent hours driving around town trying to find him—multiple times now.

The weird visitor didn’t need to know about that. He stared at her as she sipped her cocoa. What was she doing, befriending lost boys? She couldn’t possibly have good intentions.

She looked back at him with startling black eyes. “Matthew,” she said, “Ronan’s nervous. Please tell him I’m not up to anything.”

He continued to stare. She knew his name? Had Matthew told her? Was she just taking a stab at guessing which brother was which?

Matthew said, “She’s nice, Ro, I promise.” But Matthew thought everybody was nice—he had no discernment, so Ronan didn’t trust his judgement.

For a few long minutes, no one said anything. Matthew went on blithely eating. The weirdo went on drinking. The rest of them went on exchanging worried, puzzled glances.

Finally, Persephone put her mug down and said, “Well, since I’ve warmed up a bit, I suppose I’d better be on my way.”

_That_ made Matthew frown for the first time all night. “You can’t walk all the way home in this weather!”

"No, certainly—” Aurora began, but clearly she didn’t know quite what to say.

“Don’t worry,” said Persephone serenely. “I’ll get there faster than you’d think.”

They all stood up when she did and crept behind her to the door. Ronan was relieved she was leaving, but was a little more fascinated by her than he cared to admit.

She put her coat and boots back on, opened the door, then paused, turning to look back at Ronan. “It’s interesting to know that there _is_ such a thing as a Greywaren,” she said—then smiled and left.

Matthew went back to the table while the rest of them stood there, stunned. Declan said, low and angry, “How does she know about that?”

Matthew’s voice rang out from the kitchen, clear and confident. “She just knows things. You don’t have to tell her.”


	2. Ms. Sargent & Ms. Johnson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for brief a Kavinsky appearance

The next day, Ronan got suspended. The day had been hell already—he was tired from so little sleep, and he’d gotten sent to the principal’s office only thirty minutes after school started for refusing to partner with Skov for a biology lab. Like hell he wanted to dissect a cricket with that asshole.

The principal had folded his hands on the desk, looked Ronan over carefully, and said, “You really are nothing like your older brother,” which was the absolute worst thing he could’ve said. He followed it up with, “If your grades don’t improve, we may have to hold you back a year.”

Staying in this hell hole for an extra year was the worst thing Ronan could imagine, and maybe that was the point. He just sat silently and stared at the stain on the wall behind the principal’s head until he was allowed to leave.

In second period, Adam Parrish was absent, which gave Ronan something to think about other than his teacher’s boring analysis of Hamlet. Usually in English class, he spent the whole time staring at the jagged line of Adam’s hair and the slope of his shoulders, doodling knobby hands in his notebook and not asking himself why.

Adam had only spoken to him once, ever. They’d been tasked to fill out a worksheet on The Catcher in the Rye together. He’d been very businesslike except when Ronan called Holden Caulfield an asshole—Parrish had snorted in amusement.

Why would Mr. Spectacular Student be absent from school? He was out more often than made sense considering his dedication to making all As and being the valedictorian and going to Harvard and whatever else someone like that aspired to.

What a boring person, Ronan thought to himself, but he kept on doodling hands anyway.

And then, Kavinsky. He came out of nowhere in the hallways and started asking questions about Ronan’s dad. “What does this make, Lynch? Six months? A year?” K had a wide, taunting grin on his face. “Off shacking up with some bitch?”

That absolutely would’ve gotten him punched except that Noah Czerny was there to rein Ronan in. It was after Noah darted off to class that dirty Irish bastard happened, and Ronan was only too pleased to lay K out.

So he got sent home—a punishment he didn’t mind at all, except that it would upset his mother.

He took Declan’s Volvo and drove home. Someone else could go pick him up later.

Aurora wasn’t home when he got there, which was surprising, but Matthew was. He’d woken up with a cold and stayed home from school. He was sitting on the stairs looking dejected when Ronan came in, but he perked up immediately. “Hey! You’re here!”

“Seems like it,” said Ronan, hanging up his coat. Matty’s smile almost redeemed the whole damn day.

“Can you take me to town? I need to visit Persephone.”

The day had been distracting enough that Ronan hadn’t been thinking about the night before. He frowned. “Why would you wanna do that? She’s weird, Matty, you should stay away from her.”

“She’s interesting,” Matthew argued. No discernment, Ronan thought again. “She sent me a note.” Matty held it up. “She says she has something important to tell us.”

“Us?”

“Yeah, she said to bring you too, so it’s lucky that you’re home early.”

Ronan stayed by the door and weighed his options, but ultimately, he couldn’t ignore the puppy-dog eyes. “Okay, I’ll take you. But we aren’t gonna stay long, okay? Especially if she’s being creepy like last night.”

“She isn’t creepy!”

Ronan wasn’t going to have that argument. He put his coat back on, and they went back to town. They got a little lost trying to find the address Persephone had given: 300 Fox Way. Ronan started to get annoyed the third time they went around the block and still didn’t see the right street. He took a turn a little too fast, and before he could react, someone on a bicycle swerved to avoid colliding with him and tumbled into a ditch.

“Shit,” said Ronan, throwing the car into park.

Before he could get out, the bike rider was climbing back out of the ditch. Adam Parrish. Of fucking course. They stared at each other for a moment. Parrish looked distinctly pissed. Finally, he said, “Do you ever notice there are other people around you, or is it just the Ronan Lynch one-man show 24/7?”

Ronan was stupidly surprised that Parrish knew his name—but of course he did. It wasn’t that big of a school. He was equally, stupidly pleased at the sarcasm. Parrish had a personality, as well?

He was waiting for a response. “Sorry, man,” said Ronan. “I didn’t see you.”

“Obviously.” He came all the way out of the ditch and brushed himself off. Then he turned back for his bike. He muttered something unintelligible, then turned around, angrier than before. “The handlebar’s bent. Thanks a lot.”

Matthew called out from the passenger’s seat, “We can give you a lift somewhere!”

Ronan was a mess of emotions. Shit the bike’s broken. Shit, Matty, just offer up my services why don’t you? But more time with Parrish... Maybe he’s actually interesting...

“Luckily for you,” Adam said coldly, “I’m right around the corner from where I was going.”

“Could you help us find where we’re going?” Matthew asked, like he didn’t even notice how much Parrish hated them right now. “If you know the neighborhood?”

Parrish shot Ronan a look—an I’m only doing this for your brother not for you kind of look—and stepped closer to the car. “Where are you going?”

“300 Fox Way,” said Matthew.

Parrish startled. “Oh. Well. Actually, that’s where I’m headed too. So, yeah, I can show you.”

Ronan was too surprised not to say something. “You know Freaky Persephone too?”

Parrish glared at him. “She’s my best friend’s aunt.”

Well. Shit.

They followed behind him slowly as he wheeled his bike down the street and around a corner, onto a street with no sign. “No wonder we couldn’t find it,” said Matty.

Persephone was at the door, already waiting for them. “Hello!” she sang out. Adam reached the porch first and propped his bike against the railing. As Ronan and Matthew got out of the car, she was telling Parrish, “Blue’s not home yet, but that’s not why you’re here anyway.”

“See?” Matty whispered. “I told you about Blue.”

What incredible names this family had.

“It isn’t?” Parrish sounded confused and—if Ronan wasn’t imagining things—a little disappointed. Was Blue a particularly pretty girl or what? Ronan managed not to snort at the idea as he came up onto the porch.

“No,” said Persephone, “but it’s good you three have met. It saves us the trouble of introducing you.”

The house was Victorian—it might’ve been nice with a coat of paint and a less saggy porch. When she led them inside, things got weirder. There were plants sitting or hanging in every able space. Ronan tripped over at least three cats. The whole place smelled of horribly of incense. He could hear someone singing upstairs, and someone else talking on the phone. It was chaos. 

Parrish didn’t seem put off by it—but he’d been there before. As they walked, he asked, “Is it important that we know each other?”

“Anything that happens today is important,” Persephone said.

“What’s today?” Matthew asked. He had on an expression Ronan especially liked—excited and curious and... On someone else, it would’ve been sly. Like he was realizing something was afoot.

Persephone didn’t answer. She took them into a room stuffed with couches and chairs where two other women waited next to a signed picture of Steve Martin, which seemed extraordinarily out of place in this strange house.

Parrish dusted himself off, checking for more ditch dirt, in an oddly self-conscious way. “Hi, Ms. Sargent, Ms. Johnson.”

One of the ladies said, “Don’t you ‘Ms. Johnson’ me,” but she sounded fond, and Parrish replied with a wide, pleased smile, like nothing Ronan had ever seen on his face before.

“Sorry,” said Parrish. “Calla.”

Calla looked at all three of them and said, “Sit.” Her tone didn’t leave room for argument. Ronan might’ve argued anyway, just for the hell of it, except that nothing this interesting had happened in ages, aside from Persephone’s appearance at their door. Ronan sat on one of the couches, sandwiched by Matthew and Parrish. He fixed his gaze on Adam’s long, slender fingers.

The third woman, who hadn’t yet spoken, shuffled a deck of cards and then said, very no-nonsense, “We’re going to do a reading for you. The three of you. Together.”

Polite but strained, Parrish said, “I thought Persephone might give me another lesson today, if Blue’s not here yet.”

Persephone reached out and patted his knee. “Not today. You don’t need it.”

The third woman—Parrish had called her Ms. Sargent—fanned the cards out face-down.

“What kind of reading is this?” Ronan asked suspiciously.

“They’re psychics,” Matthew stage-whispered. And then, “Be nice!” –as if he’d known exactly what Ronan was going to say—I don’t believe in that bullshit; I’m not dooming my immortal soul by consulting a bunch of witches—

He clamped his mouth shut for Matthew’s sake, and a little bit for Parrish’s.

“Each of you pick a card,” said Ms. Sargent. “You’ll know which one—you’ll feel it. You first.”

She was talking to Ronan. He glared at her so she’d know he didn’t approve, then reached out and pulled the card nearest to him.

“Eight of Wands reversed,” she said. “You’ll be going on a journey—we already knew that.”

“Did we?” Ronan asked acidly.

“We did.” She nodded at the other two women then looked back down at the card. “It’ll be dangerous. You’ll face obstacles. My advice? Focus on your care and affection for others—that’ll be what saves you.”

Ronan snorted. He couldn’t help it. “Really? A journey, danger, and the power of love? Isn’t that what you tell everyone? Am I going to meet a handsome stranger too?” He glanced at Parrish without meaning to. Parrish looked back, expression unreadable, as it often was.

Ms. Sargent said, “I’m telling you what I see.”

He snarled. “Give me something specific.” Matthew grabbed his hand—another silent be nice.

Calla jumped back in coolly. “Let the brother pick. That’ll be more specific.”

So Matthew chose a card. King of Wands. What was up with the wands? Ronan knew nothing about this shit.

“Your father,” said Calla immediately. “Charismatic. Ambitious. Restless—a traveler. That’s where the danger comes from—he traveled too far. Made himself too noticeable—it was an ego boost. Then he fell into the wrong hands.”

Ronan felt another flare of anger, and of fear. How dare she say that? But... what if it was true? Wasn’t that what Aurora was afraid of?

Before he could respond, Ms. Sargent held the cards out to Adam. He drew one—the Magician—and sighed. “The same every time.”

“But the Lynches are in need of a magician,” said Persephone softly, “even if they don’t know it yet.” She met Ronan’s eyes, and he burned. What did she know about anything? What did any of them know? So they’d heard the same dumb rumors about Niall Lynch as everybody else—the same rumors Kavinsky had thrown in his face. So what?

Ms. Sargent snapped the cards back into a neat stack. “It’s time for you to go. All of you.”

“I was going to study with Blue,” said Parrish, but the women shook their heads.

“Not tonight,” said Ms. Sargent.

“You’ll see her soon enough,” said Calla.

“It’s very important,” said Persephone, still soft but urgent, “that you go home with the Lynches tonight. You need to be at their house when the time comes.”

“When’s that?” asked Parrish faintly.

“Not now, but soon.”

He turned and looked at Ronan. What was that expression? Skepticism? Hesitation?

Matthew was practically jumping up and down on Ronan’s other side. “Yeah! Come home with us! Eat dinner and sleep over! Our mom will love you.”

Adam didn’t seem convinced. Slowly, he said, “I’ll have to call home and see if it’s all right.”

“It will be,” said Persephone soothingly.

There were rumors that flew around Aglionby, just like the ones about Niall Lynch, about Adam’s family. About his absences and his bruises. Maybe it’d be better for him to be away for a night.

He disappeared into another room, presumably to make his phone call. The ladies shuffled Ronan and Matthew back outside.

“Don’t worry,” Persephone told them. Her voice sounded like it was coming to them from outer space. “Everything will make sense soon enough.”

“Do you know if our father’s all right?” Matthew asked in a tiny voice.

“You’ll find out soon,” said Persephone, disappearing back inside.

Matthew got back in the car, and Ronan spent a minute wrestling Adam’s battered bike into the trunk. Then Parrish came out the front door and over to the Volvo. “You don’t have to do this,” Ronan blurted before he could think about it. “Come over, I mean.” Parrish fixed him with another blank stare, and Ronan fumbled to explain. “I know you don’t like me.” He hoped he sounded nonchalant instead of pathetic.

Parrish gave him half a smile. “I just told my mom I’m not coming home tonight, so it looks like I need a place to stay.”

They got in the car, and Matthew looked up from his phone. “Uh, Declan’s pissed. He wants to know where his car is.”

“Shit.” Ronan had forgotten about that. They headed back to Aglionby.

Declan found them in the parking lot, opening the driver’s side door and glaring down at Ronan. “Get out.”

“Make me,” said Ronan.

“I heard you got suspended. You’re not driving my car. Get out.”

“Dec,” said Matthew anxiously, “we’ve got company.”

Declan peered over Ronan’s shoulder into the back seat. “Parrish?” he sounded surprised.

“Hi,” said Adam.

“He’s coming over!” Matthew announced.

Declan nodded and turned his attention back to Ronan. “Get out.”

Ronan saw the merits of not fighting in front of Parrish, so he got out and slid into the back, only to be met with Parrish’s bemused smile. What the hell was so funny?

Declan climbed in and backed out of the parking space. He looked at Parrish in the rearview and said, “I didn’t know you and Ronan were friends. When did that happen?”

Parrish shrugged. “Today, I guess.” A nicer answer than Ronan had really expected.

They went home.


	3. Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> R & A get to know each other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next we've got: Adam/Calvin's weird little crush on Ronan/Meg's mom.
> 
> I'm trying to strike a balance between Canon Ronan and the "old Ronan" Gansey describes in the books. Because in this story, Niall isn't dead, only missing.
> 
> Speaking of Gansey, he won't be in this story. Sorry!! I just couldn't find a place for him.

It was an entirely new experience to have a side view of Adam Parrish. Ronan kept glancing over as they drove out to the Barns. Sharp jawline, high cheekbones, tanned skin, hair just as uneven from the side as from the back. Adam caught him looking and raised one fair eyebrow.

Ronan scrambled. Small talk was not his forte. Looking away, he said, “So... English.”

“Yeah?” Parrish was back to skeptical.

“You missed today.”

“I missed all my classes today,” he said quietly.

That was a Thing Not to Talk About. “Do you need... notes?”

Parrish seemed amused. “Do you take notes?”

Ronan did not. “You could get some from Noah.”

Parrish cleared his throat. “I probably only need them for Latin. We were starting a new verb tense today, weren’t we?”

From the front, Declan said, “That’s the one subject Ronan could actually help you with.”

Ronan glared at him in the rearview mirror.

Matthew piped up proudly. “Ronan’s top of his class.”

Parrish looked at him—they locked eyes. “Oh? I figured it was you. ‘Cause I know it’s not me.” He didn’t seem bothered by that.

Ronan was surprised, again, that Adam had noticed anything about him.

-

At home, Aurora was in the kitchen, making a pot of stew. She was thrilled to have a guest—something different to think about, Ronan guessed, instead of worrying about their father. Adam gaped at her a little when she kissed him on the cheek and said of course he could stay over and of course there was enough stew for five people. He recovered and said, “Thank you for having me, ma’am.” His western Virginia accent came out strong, unlike at school.

Declan and Matthew had disappeared upstairs. Ronan took Parrish to the living room and realized he had no idea what to do or say, but Parrish didn’t seem bothered. He took in the room calmly and wandered over to the wall of family pictures. Ronan watched him look them over and waited for some comment.

Finally, Parrish said, “Where’s this?” –pointing to a picture of Ronan’s parents standing on columns of basalt rocks by the sea.

“Northern Ireland,” Ronan said.

“Oh, he’s from there, isn’t he? Your dad?”

Surprise. Again. “Yeah.”

Parrish kept studying it. “You look just like him.”

Everyone said so.

Adam kept talking. “Your mother is beautiful. She seems very...” He considered the word and pronounced it carefully. “Loving.”

“She is,” Ronan agreed.

Adam turned back towards him with an odd expression, much more human and less robotic than any he wore at school. It was almost—wistful? He said only, “You’re lucky.”

-

After supper, Parrish stayed sitting at the kitchen table and helped Matthew with algebra. Then Ronan wrote down everything he could remember from that day’s lesson on the Latin conditional tense. Unsurprisingly, Parrish grasped it right away. “Maybe I’ll surpass you at some point,” he said, grinning and cheerfully. He was teasing—Ronan was amazed. He had a sense of humor? Who even _was_ this Adam Parrish?

Matthew left to call a friend, and when Ronan and Adam were alone again, they lapsed into silence. After a couple minutes, desperate to break the awkward spell, Ronan blurted, “Do you want to come meet our cows?”

Parrish shrugged. “Sure.”

It was cold and mostly dark out—winter was closing in. They dashed across the yard into one of the barns, out of the wind. There wasn’t actually a whole lot to see in the barn. Most of the cows were sleeping. But they went around and looked at each of them, and Ronan introduced them by name, and when they came to one who was awake, Adam asked, “Can I pet her?”

“Yeah, this one’s chill,” said Ronan. She was one of the matriarchs of the bunch.

Adam reached out tentatively and touched her nose. She leaned into his touch and seemed pleased when he rubbed up and down her muzzle.

“She likes you,” said Ronan.

“I’ve never been around animals much,” said Parrish.

“Seems like you have a knack,” said Ronan gruffly.

After a while, they sat down in the hay. It was freezing, but Ronan didn’t feel like going back to the house. Parrish seemed to be working through something, working up to saying something, so Ronan stayed quiet and let him think. Finally, Adam said, “Something bad happened to your father—didn’t it?” And then, quickly, “I know it’s none of my business. I just wondered—your mother seems so sad underneath everything else.”

Adam’s knee was pressing into his where they sat. He was still wearing his school uniform, and Ronan could see how worn the pants were, fraying around the edges. Parrish was tapping his fingers as they sat there, as if he could never be totally calm.

“I don’t know,” said Ronan, low and honest. “But whatever the fuck Kavinsky is saying about it, he’s wrong.”

Adam snorted. “You think I listen to Kavinsky?”

“How’m I supposed to know? I didn’t think you paid attention to anything outside of your perfect-student bubble.” This came out a little more hostile than Ronan meant for it to, and Parrish shot him a look. Ronan sighed inwardly. “I mean, I didn’t think you knew anything about me, for starters. Does _everyone_ know my father’s gone?”

Adam shrugged. “There are all kinds of rumors. I didn’t know what to believe, but now that I’m here, I can see you’re all unhappy about something. But it’s none of my business,” he repeated.

“You wanna know because the psychics sent you out here,” Ronan guessed.

Another shrug.

Ronan started shredding pieces of hay. “Okay, do you know what my father does for a living?”

No one did. This was a test question.

“I heard he’s an art dealer.”

That was the official story.

Adam paused, then ventured, “I heard he was doing some shady black-market deal and then disappeared. But I didn’t believe that any more than I believe he ran off with another woman. I mean, _look_ at your mom.”

Ronan was mildly amused and mildly disgusted at the same time. “Eyes off my mom, Parrish.” Parrish laughed, and Ronan, bolstered by the laugh, said, “It’s the people in his business that are shady, okay? He went off to meet a buyer back in March and never came home. We’re pretty sure he isn’t dead—” they had magical ways of knowing it for sure—“but we have no idea where he is or if he’s okay. He hasn’t contacted us at all.”

Parrish just said, “Hmm.” He seemed to be thinking it over carefully. “I guess you’ve contacted people he worked with to see if they know anything?”

Declan had. All Ronan knew about it was that Dec hadn’t gotten many answers. He had only learned one thing: one of their dad’s buyers was interested in the Greywaren. They weren’t sure who it was or how that person knew about it. They were pretty sure that no one knew it was Ronan. Or, they had been until Persephone had dropped that word so casually the night before.

Ronan just said, “Yeah, no dice.”

Parrish kept tapping his fingers and thinking.

“It’s fucked,” Ronan spat. What he hated, more than anything, was his own lack of control in this situation. He couldn’t help. He couldn’t do a damn thing but just sit here. He had screamed and stomped around and fought people at school and fought his brother and stolen the Volvo multiple times and... None of it helped. _“I’m_ fucked.”

Adam looked over at him and said unemotionally, “Oh, most people would be upset about this. Normal people. The teachers have been saying you’re ‘acting out’ because of your dad, and I’m like, why is that a surprise?”

What was a surprise was getting sympathy from Adam Parrish. “You don’t judge me for ‘acting out’ then?” He tried to sound like he didn’t care.

Adam shrugged. “Only for fighting with Kavinsky. That’s pointless, and he’s a piece of shit.”

Ronan barked out a laugh. “Damn right.”

They looked at each other for a minute. Adam still seemed to be thinking over the Niall Lynch situation, but then he leaned a little closer to Ronan and said, “Your eyes are so blue. I never noticed.”

Ronan felt himself flush. God. Why _would_ Parrish have noticed something like that?

And then, as if nothing had happened, Adam stood up. “Can we go back inside? I’m freezing.”

They did. Ronan walked all the way back to the house and up to his room thinking _blue blue blue._ Adam Parrish’s eyes were blue too, but darker and grayer than Ronan’s. Ronan had catalogued the color carefully that day they’d worked on _The Catcher in the Rye_.

He hadn’t given any thought to where Parrish was going to sleep. He looked around his own room and said, “Uh, I can get out my sleeping bag for you if you want. Or—” he blurted—“you can just share the bed with me.”

Parrish was messing with a toy car on Ronan’s desk. “Whatever works,” he said.

Damn his nonchalance, Ronan thought.

Before they could decide, something hit Ronan’s window. They both looked at it, then at each other.

The sound came again. And then a third time. They went over to the window and looked out. A story below, someone tiny was crouched in the bushes. The person waved up at them.

“Who the fuck?” said Ronan.

At the same time, Adam said, “Is that Blue? Can I open your window?”

They got it open with some difficulty—who knew when that had last been done—and Adam leaned out and called down in a loud whisper, “Blue? Is that you?”

“Yes!” hissed the person down below.

“Were you throwing rocks at his window?” Adam asked.

“Yeah,” she said, like it was no big deal.

_“In flagrante delicto,”_ Adam murmured, and Ronan laughed. _Caught in the act._

"Come down here! Bring him!” The girl pointed at Ronan. “And the younger brother, too.”

“What for?” Adam asked. Now, Ronan appreciated the skepticism.

“Persephone sent me. She said it’s time. We’re going to find their father.”


	4. The Dreaming Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cabeswater shows Ronan a bit about what's happening to his father

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This corresponds to the AWIT kids' first trip to outer space and the "Happy Medium" scene (for those of you playing along)

It took a few minutes to convince Matthew that sneaking out at night was a good idea—especially since their mother was still awake. In the end, they couldn’t get out without her seeing it, so Adam lied and said they were taking him to see the cows. She didn’t know he’d already seen them.

Outside was Blue, a child-sized person who Parrish claimed was their age. She was the one who finally convinced Matthew to go, by assuring him multiple times that they would see their father soon. But Ronan heard her whisper to Adam as they slipped down the driveway, _soon is relative_. “So’s everything,” Adam replied.

Far, far down the Lynches’ driveway was a little car they all piled into. “Where exactly are we going?” Matthew asked, nervous. Ronan wasn’t thrilled, either, to be getting into a car in the middle of the night with someone he’d just met.

“We’re going to drive up into the mountains a bit,” Blue said.

“That’s vague,” said Ronan, only growing more suspicious. “Parrish, how much do you trust her?”

“Completely,” said Adam. The girl shot him a smile, and Ronan felt it like a punch in the gut. Adam turned to look at them in the back seat and said seriously, “It’s possible this is a wild goose chase, but she won’t hurt us.”

Blue tsked. “Ye of little faith.”

Adam turned back to her and grinned. Another gut punch. “You can’t get around my natural skepticism, Blue,” he said, and he sounded so carefree and happy that, once again, Ronan couldn’t believe he was the same person from school. Ronan hated that cheer being directed at someone else. What did he have to do to provoke a smile like that?

The drive felt longer and more sinister in the dark—because out in the country, or up in the mountains, there was no light at all, just endless inky road and sky. When they finally stopped, there was nothing to mark the spot as being any different from anywhere else except the presence of another car there, and Persephone standing beside the car. She held three flashlights and handed one each to Adam and Blue. Wordlessly, she led them away from the road, into the trees. Adam and Blue didn’t seem bothered—they seemed ready to follow her anywhere. They didn’t speak either.

They walked in the dark for about five minutes before Ronan said, “This isn’t funny,” breaking the eerie silence. “Either tell us where we’re going, or Matthew and I are outta here.” Never mind _how_ they’d get outta there—that was a problem for Future Ronan.

But then he took another step, and it wasn’t nighttime anymore. It was bright as midday, with sunlight peeking through the leaves above their head, dappling the forest floor.

Matthew grabbed his hand. “What’s going on?” He seemed more perturbed by this than by the darkness. Which... fair enough. Suddenly, they were thrust into the realm of the magical. They’d been there before, but never quite like this.

Persephone only paused long enough to look back at them and say, “If you choose to leave, I won’t stop you. But we’re here to help your father.”

Okay, right. They weren’t going to leave.

But Matthew asked the obvious question—“How, exactly?”

“Your father is in a place much like this one,” said Persephone, “only more dangerous. I’m showing you this place to prepare you for the next one.”

“He’s in... the woods?” Matthew was perplexed, but no one answered him.

The farther they walked into the now-bright forest, the more Ronan felt a sort of déjà-vu. He knew this place. The reason why was at the edge of his consciousness, and he didn’t want to think about it.

“The rule of law here is intention,” Persephone said. She turned to Ronan again, briefly. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

He scowled back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Blue stepped in. “I bet where your father is trapped, it’s the same. Right, Persephone? If intention rules, then don’t think about anything unless you want it to happen.”

“Too late,” said Matthew. He had butterflies circling his head and bumping into him. He was laughing.

Ronan’s heart twisted—Matthew was quite possibly the only good and pure thing on earth. “Did you wish for butterflies?” he asked.

“I just thought this seemed like the kind of place that would have them.”

“See?” said Blue. “It’s that sensitive. On the other hand, if you want them to go away, you just have to wish for it.”

“Go somewhere else,” Matthew said gently to the butterflies. They flew off. “I’ve never seen magic like this.”

“What kind of magic _have_ you seen?” Blue asked, skeptical.

Matthew and Ronan traded looks and didn’t answer. Persephone said, “Blue and Adam are here to help. It isn’t dangerous to tell them the truth.”

Ronan knew what Declan would say if he were here— _it’s dangerous to tell anyone the truth._

Blue put her hands on her hips. “Let’s rephrase. We can’t help you if we don’t know what’s going on.”

“The whole problem is, we don’t know,” Ronan snapped. “We have no idea where he is or with who. If _you_ know—” this to Persephone—“then tell us.”

“Soon,” she said serenely.

Adam hadn’t spoken this entire time—he was wandering around the clearing where they’d stopped, looking everything over carefully. Now, he said, “What is this place? This isn’t a normal forest.”

“No,” Persephone agreed. “This forest was manifested from another dimension.” Another glance at Ronan. “It’s powerful magic. Draining. The only reason it works is because we’re on a ley line—a source of energy. Because this place is magical, it and other places like it can be influenced by other kinds of magic—even dark magic. We’re here to experiment, because here, it can be done safely.”

“Experiment how?” Ronan was still deeply suspicious.

“Play with the rules,” said Adam, as if this all made perfect sense to him. “See what we can and can’t do.”

Persephone held out her hands like, _there, see?_ But it wasn’t until Matthew grabbed Ronan’s hand and said blithely, “Let’s explore!” that Ronan let himself unwind a bit.

Persephone waited in the clearing, but the rest of them ventured out into the forest. Blue and Matthew tested their limits, wishing for brighter sunlight and fewer rocks under their feet and blue flowers instead of red. Each of these wishes was granted. Some parts of the forest—sunlight notwithstanding—were cooler than others. Some trees had more leaves, and differently colored leaves, than others. It was as if the seasons were changing as they walked.

Wind rustled through the leaves of the trees in an almost musical way. Eventually, someone else seemed to notice it. Blue said, “Do you hear voices?”

Ronan didn’t, not quite, but the sound he heard was close enough to speech that he didn’t mock her.

“What language are they speaking?” Adam asked.

Blue whirled around. “What kind of question is that?”

Adam pointed at a rock directly in front of him. “A valid one, according to this.”

They all went over to look. In shaky red lettering, the rock said, _arbores loquere latine_.

A chill went all through Ronan. He recognized that handwriting. He didn’t want to. It was his own. He’d been here before—or he would be here someday—he wasn’t sure. Suddenly, time had turned on its head.

The others, not recognizing this, puzzled over it. “Latin?” Blue asked.

“The trees speak Latin,” Adam translated. “Is that what you’re hearing?”

“Latin?” she repeated, hands on her hips. “I don’t _speak_ Latin, shockingly, since it’s a dead language.”

Adam smiled at her again. Ronan wanted to break something.

She grinned back. This was all a joke to them. “Us plebes in public school don’t study the classics.”

“What are you hearing?” Matthew asked. “Can you try to imitate what the voices are saying?”

“I don’t know if I really believe it’s the trees _or_ that they’re speaking Latin,” she said. Nonetheless, she listened, and slowly, haltingly, said, “Ab honest-o—vi-room, bo-noom, neeheel detear it.”

“That was nonsense,” said Ronan.

“No.” Adam shook his head. “Say it again.”

She repeated it. Adam listened intently and stated it back, “ _Ab honesto virum bonum nihil deterret_.”

Nearly in unison, he and Ronan translated. “Nothing deters a good man from doing what is honorable.”

“Seneca,” Adam noted.

“What does it mean?” Blue asked.

Ronan translated her question into Latin and shouted it up into the trees. “Are they replying?” he asked.

She listened again. “I don’t actually understand any of it, but they’re talking about your father—” this to Ronan and Matthew. “Niall Lynch, right? They keep saying his name and something that sounds like ‘Gray Warren.’”

No surprises there.

“‘Doing what is honorable’ must mean helping Dad,” said Matthew earnestly.

“That’s what we’re here for,” Blue agreed.

They kept walking. Ronan started to wonder if he’d dreamed all this—the entire day, post getting kicked out of school. He hadn’t had his fortune told, he hadn’t brought Adam Parrish home with him, Adam had _definitely_ not said something possibly admiring about his eyes, a strange girl hadn’t shown up at his house, he wasn’t walking around a magical forest in the middle of the night, and the trees were absolutely not speaking Latin or quoting literature. He laughed out loud. His dreams certainly weren’t boring.

They came to a tree that was bigger than all the others, but rotten and hollowed out at its base. There was a hole in it big enough for a human to stand in. The tree was radiating some kind of powerful energy, different than in the rest of the forest, and it was drawing Ronan in.

Off behind him, Adam said his name warningly, but Ronan kept walking towards the tree.

Adam came up beside him. “If you’re going in, at least let me come with you.”

That broke the tree’s spell, just a bit. Ronan was pretty okay with letting Adam come with him anywhere.

They stepped into it together.

The tree instantly pulled them into a vision. Ronan was still aware of his real body and Adam’s presence beside him, but they were in a completely different place. Ronan wondered if Adam was seeing what he did. He was standing in a small, dark living room with a kitchenette attached. A man holding a bottle of beer was yelling at a woman cooking something on the stove. The words weren’t audible. They were both facing away.

Beside him, Adam was tense. The yelling man turned around, and Ronan understood why. It was clearly someone related to Adam—his father, probably—a strange shadow of the person Ronan knew. There was something about the tension in the man’s face that looked very familiar, even though the emotion was difference—anger, rather than Adam’s pride and standoffishness. The man couldn’t see them—they weren’t really in the room—but when he threw his beer bottle in their direction, Adam and Ronan both flinched.

The scene changed. They were in a forest again, but not the same one. A darker one, with a sinister atmosphere. Niall Lynch was sitting on the ground, tied up, and he had something streaming out of his eyes and ears—something black that looked like tar. Ronan lunged towards him—he had to help, he had to get his dad out of here.

He heard Adam’s voice, beside him and yet far away, too. “You can’t help him, Ronan. This isn’t real.”

And of course he was right. As soon as Ronan got close to his father, the scene receded and changed again.

Ronan himself was in front of them now, a different version of him, older and angry-looking, with a shaved head and a leather jacket. He was sitting in a car, but the same thing was happening to him as to his father. The same black substance was pouring out of him. Now, he heard the trees himself. _Non somnit, non somnit. Aegrotus._ Not dreaming. Diseased.

He didn’t really understand.

Suddenly, that other Ronan melted away, and he was back in Forest #1 with Adam beside him. They looked at each other. Ronan could feel the stupid, wide-eyed expression on his face. “What did we just see?” he asked. Surely Adam had understood better than he did.

“I’m not sure,” said Adam slowly. “The voices said you were sick. But that must’ve been you in the future—or, a possible future. Maybe your dad is sick the same way in the present.”

“So—we have to heal him?” Ronan asked. He didn’t know how to do that. He’d never seen anything like that black stuff.

“Maybe,” said Adam, uneasy. And then, “I’m sorry you had to see that—my parents.”

Ronan shrugged. “No biggie.” It wasn’t the right response, but he knew Adam wouldn’t appreciate sympathy or pity.

They turned back to the others. “Let’s find Persephone,” said Adam.


	5. The Greenmantles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They walked until the woods went dark again. And then there was no darkness anymore—there was nothing at all. Everything around Ronan had disappeared. The trees, the sky, Adam, Matthew—everything. All sound had stopped too, their voices and the rustling of leaves being swallowed suddenly in a vacuum. Ronan tried to scream and found he couldn’t, because his voice didn’t exist in this place. Was this where his father was trapped? This horrible void?
> 
> (Things are getting crazy, y'all)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only 1 or 2 more chapters after this!

They didn’t have to drive to find Ronan’s father. They only had to walk.

“All ley lines on Earth connect to each other,” said Persephone. “They allow us to do things we couldn’t normally.”

“Like see spirits?” Blue asked. Ronan looked sideways at her—she was completely serious.

“Like that,” Persephone agreed, sage and calm as always. “And so, we can move from this place to where your father is much quicker than normal.”

“How’s that ma’am?” Adam asked. He was as polite and skeptical as ever.

She held up the hem of her long, loose shirt, stretching it into a straight line, “This is how we travel normally, right?”

“In a straight line?” Adam asked.

“In a line,” she agreed. Then she folded the hem so that it made a loop and her fingers touched in the two places where she was holding it. “When we travel on the ley lines, if we know what we’re doing, we can cut out the middle ground. Or rather, skip over it.”

“How’s that?” Adam asked, still not convinced.

Persephone floated away. “The first thing is to believe you can.”

They followed her. Of course. What else were they going to do? Ronan knew he wouldn’t turn back as long as there was a chance of seeing his father.

They walked until the woods went dark again. And then there was no darkness anymore—there was nothing at all. Everything around Ronan had disappeared. The trees, the sky, Adam, Matthew—everything. All sound had stopped too, their voices and the rustling of leaves being swallowed suddenly in a vacuum. Ronan tried to scream and found he couldn’t, because his voice didn’t exist in this place. Was _this_ where his father was trapped? This horrible void?

He had a sense of moving. His limbs were still, but he was being pulled by some invisible force, a gentle one, like waves near a shore.

This movement had paralyzed him, but when he started to feel as if he could move again, that’s when sound came back, too. Somewhere, Blue was saying, “Couldn’t you have warned us it would be like that?” She reappeared on his left, along with Persephone. “Hey, where’s everybody else?” Blue said.

As if on cue, Adam appeared too, followed by Matthew. It was odd—they came back slowly, first noses and limbs, then torso, then eyes and other features. Matthew looked unsettled, and Ronan felt a flash of anger at anyone who’d made him feel that way. “Matty?” he said. “You okay?”

Or tried to say. The void hadn’t quite let go of his voice yet. Matthew didn’t look his way, nor did anybody else.

Adam was looking around. “Where’s Ronan?” His name sounded nice in Adam’s voice, with its hint of a Henrietta accent. Adam whirled around. “Persephone, you can’t just leave someone behind! He could be hurt, he could be stuck in—wherever we were—”

Adam was worried about him? Ronan’s heart lurched, and it was as if this launched him back into the land of the living. Trees began to fade back into view around them, and Matthew said, “Look! There he is! But where are his feet?”

“It takes a moment,” said Persephone, not too concerned.

They were still in a forest, but this one was different. Taller trees, mostly pines. Darker ground, covered with needles. “Where are we?” Ronan asked, and his voice worked this time.

Matthew ran over and threw his arms around Ronan. “You’re here!”

“Sure I am.” Ronan ruffled Matty’s hair. “Good as new.” He could see all of his body, so he assumed it was all there.

“We’re in another forest on the ley line,” said Adam. “Right?”

Persephone nodded. “This is the place where Mr. Lynch is being held.”

Ronan turned towards her. “Take us to him!”

She shook her head. “This is where I leave you. I could only bring you here; I can’t help you anymore. Only you—” she looked at Ronan and Matthew—“can save your father. Adam and Blue can decide whether they want to go on with you or not.”

“I will,” said Adam right away, “if you want me to. You should stay with Persephone,” he said to Blue. “And stay safe.”

Ugh. Whose safety was he most concerned with? Why even come along when he could just stay with Blue and keep her safe?

Blue didn’t seem to love this idea either. She was bristling. “I’m not some damsel in distress!”

“I don’t think that,” said Adam, as calm as Persephone. “But how much can either of us help? If they have to do it themselves?”

“Why are _you_ the one going with them, then?” Blue shot back. “If we’re equally useless, it might as well be me. Or neither of us.”

Adam glanced at Ronan. “I thought they might want moral support from someone they’ve known more than two hours.”

Blue kept glaring at him, but she visibly deflated, conceding a point. Now _she_ turned to Persephone. “Is it dangerous?”

“Yes.”

God. No hesitation. No questions there. Their father was in danger, and soon they would be too.

“Are you going to wait for them to come back?” Blue asked.

“Yes,” Persephone repeated.

Okay, that was a bit more promising.

Sighing, Blue said, “Fine, then, I’ll stay too. If you guys get hurt, you might need more than just Persephone to help you.”

Adam went over and gave her a hug. “Thank you, Blue,” he murmured.

Ronan burned.

But in the end, Adam was coming with _him_ , not staying with her. Adam wanted to give him _moral support._

“Where do we go from here?” Adam asked.

“Straight forward,” Persephone said, pointing in the direction they’d been going. “You’ll know when you get there.”

-

Ronan had doubted it would be so simple, but when he, Adam, and Matthew had walked another half hour through the forest, they came to a clearing. There was a building there, two stories high. It looked like an office building, and a surprisingly nice one for the middle of nowhere. Or maybe they weren’t in the middle of nowhere anymore. Who knew where Persephone’s teleporting trick had taken them.

They approached it carefully. Adam reached it first and peered in a ground-floor window. “Careful!” Matty said nervously.

But Adam wasn’t listening. “Oh,” he breathed, amazed.

“What do you see?” Ronan asked.

“Your dad.”

Ronan’s heart leapt. Maybe this was going to be much easier than Persephone had expected.

“It must be him,” Adam added. “He looks just like you. But he’s like in the vision—that black stuff.”

Ronan rushed over and looked inside, too. Adam was right—that same black thing was coming out of Niall Lynch’s eyes, nose, and ears. He was alone in the room, so Ronan started waving his arms, afraid to make noise in case someone else was around, but hoping his dad would see him. He didn’t. He stared straight ahead as if he was hardly seeing anyone at all.

“We have to go in,” Ronan whispered to the others. He wasn’t sure if they’d agree, but they nodded back at them. They went over to the front door of the building, Adam still in front. He opened the door slowly, cautiously, trying not to make noise, but it turned out that was completely pointless, because they walked into a lobby where a man sat at a large desk, smiling at them pleasantly, like a receptionist would anywhere else.

“Hello!” said the man, bright and chipper. “Welcome to Greenmantle Enterprises! May I direct you?”

There was something wrong about him. His eyes didn’t quite focus on them. His smile was so wide it looked like it’d hurt.

They all exchanged glances. Ronan was inclined to be honest, as always, but Adam spoke up first. “We got a bit lost in the woods, sir. Can you tell us where we are?”

“Why! You’re at Greenmantle Enterprises!” the man repeated in that same bright tone. “May I see your papers?”

He asked that like it was a completely normal question.

Matthew piped up shyly. “We don’t have any papers, sir. It’s like he said—” nodding to Adam—“we’re lost.”

The man cocked his head, frowning slightly, but he still looked at them as if he couldn’t quite see them. “No papers? That’s quite irregular. No one comes here who doesn’t mean to. Everyone has their purpose at Greenmantle Enterprises.” Suddenly his voice hitched, and for the first time, he seemed human. “You aren’t inspectors, are you? We’re ahead of schedule on production, everything running smooth as silk, I can assure you—”

Adam drew himself up a little taller and frowned. “Well if we are inspectors, you shouldn’t keep us waiting here, now should you?” He sounded different—authoritative and sure of himself. “Take us to Mr. Lynch.”

The man had started to sweat. Nervously, he said, “I’m afraid I’m not authorized. Will you come this way?” He stood up from the desk and gestured them around it. He led them across the slick, black marble floor. His dress shoes clicked as he walked, echoing through the tall lobby. Adam’s sneakers squeaked.

The man let them into a room that looked like a normal office, with a desk, a bookshelf, and several chairs. “Will you wait here, please?” he said, shifting back towards a neutral, perfect-employee voice. “I’ll speak to my boss.”

As soon as he’d closed the door behind them, Adam said, low, “I have a very bad feeling about this.”

“What kind of bad feeling?” Ronan asked. “A normal one or a psychic one?” Adam gave him a flat, unimpressed look. “I’m serious,” Ronan said.

“Normal,” said Adam. “Like now that we’re in here, it’s going to be very hard to get back out.”

Matthew slipped a hand into Ronan’s. Ronan used his free hand to gesture at the window. “Windows in every room,” he told Adam. “Worst case scenario, we jump out one of them.”

“But what’s out the window?” Adam asked.

For the first time, Ronan looked at the window properly. He didn’t see forest outside. He saw a cityscape. New York, maybe. “What the fuck,” he said.

“Exactly,” Adam agreed.

Within a few minutes, the strange receptionist man was back. “Will you come this way?” he asked pleasantly, like before. They traded wary glances again, but what else were they going to do? They followed him.

He took them down a fluorescent-lit hallway with gray industrial carpeting. It was all so oddly normal. He opened one of the many doors in the hall, and behind it was Niall.

“Dad!” Ronan and Matthew rushed forward, but they couldn’t get to him. There was a wall of glass separating them from him, but he looked up at them in amazement. He came over to the glass and put his hands against it. Matthew pressed his hands against it too, as if they could touch. Niall was speaking, but they couldn’t hear him through the glass.

Then a female voice came from behind them. “A family reunion! How sweet!”

They all turned. A young couple stood in the doorway, impeccably dressed. They looked like they’d just come from a Wall Street merger. The woman had neat blonde hair. Both were looking at them with great interest. “Piper Greenmantle,” she said, stepping forward, offering a hand to shake. They all just stared.

Behind her, the man was smirking at them. “They don’t want to shake your hand, Piper,” he said, amused. “Colin Greenmantle,” he said. “It’s a pleasure. Here for your dad, huh? Who’s this?” He gestured at Adam.

“Not a relative,” Ronan said, hoping they’d be less interested in him that way, less likely to do anything horrible to him, because the more these two smiled, the more he was certain they were capable of awful things.

“I’m afraid we can’t let your dad go,” the man—Colin—said nonchalantly, examining his fingernails. “The Greywaren is simply too valuable.”

Matthew blurted, “But he’s not—” and Ronan clamped a hand over Matthew’s mouth before he could finish that statement.

It was too late. Piper and Colin were now looking at Matthew with glittering, curious eyes. “What do you know about it?” Piper asked.

“Nothing,” Ronan said quickly. “He doesn’t know anything.”

“We’ll be the judges of that,” Piper said. She took Matthew’s hand and dragged him forward.

“No!” said Ronan, lunging after him. He felt Adam at his back, ready to help or to hold Ronan back from hurting himself.

The Greenmantles were taking Matthew out the door. He was looking back, frightened. Ronan made another lunge, and Colin Greenmantle shoved him back. “Don’t worry!” said Piper as they shut the door. “We’ll take good care of Little Brother!”

There was a distinct sound of the door being locked. They were trapped.


	6. Matthew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It still wasn’t Matthew’s voice, not really. He sounded older. His blue eyes were cold and nearly vacant. Ronan’s stomach plummeted to his shoes. Adam was right—brainwashing. They’d already achieved it with Matthew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's a little demonic possession between friends??

The glass was completely soundproof. The best Ronan could do was gesture at Niall to try to communicate. Niall looked horrified—probably that they were there, having delivered themselves into the clutches of his enemies.

When he’d apparently had enough of Ronan’s useless gesticulating, he held up one finger, turned, went over to a table, and grabbed something. He came back and showed them a dry-erase marker. On the glass he wrote slowly and painstakingly—backwards, for him—WHY ARE YOU HERE?

They had no way to answer, so Ronan threw his hands up helplessly. Niall nodded, grim, and started writing again. DON’T LISTEN TO ANYTHING THEY SAY. DON’T MEET THEIR EYES. DON’T LISTEN TO ANY MUSIC HERE.

Ronan frowned at all that and hoped his confusion showed. Beside him, Adam murmured, “Brainwashing?”

Ronan was desperately glad not to be alone, and glad he’d brought along the smartest guy in school.

Niall added, DON’T DREAM!!

“Dream?” Adam asked. He didn’t know, of course. It was Ronan’s biggest secret—that he and his father could both take things out of their dreams. That was what _Greywaren_ meant, though he’d only ever heard that word applied to himself. Ronan hoped Matthew wasn’t currently telling the Greenmantles some version of that.

Adam was looking at him, eyebrows raised, waiting for an answer.

“Tell you later,” Ronan muttered.

“Why don’t you tell me _now?”_ asked Adam, exasperated. “If it’s important? I’d prefer not to get killed.”

“This place might be bugged—” which was only half the reason Ronan didn’t want to tell. “Anyway, that part doesn’t apply to you, but the other stuff might.”

Niall wiped away all his words with his sleeve.

Minutes ticked by. Ronan and Adam sat on the floor, and Niall sat on the cot on his side of the glass, and they all looked at each other. Ronan contemplated breaking the glass. With three of them, could they fight the Greenmantles and the weird receptionist? Could they grab Matthew and get out of here?

More than anything else, at this moment, Ronan wanted to _talk_ to his father. It had been eight months. Niall was more or less the center of Ronan’s universe—magical and charismatic, Ronan adored him more than anyone in the world, except maybe Matthew. Not having him around, not knowing if he was all right, had been a hole inside Ronan for months now, eating him from the inside, turning him into someone else, someone harder and colder and angrier. He could almost feel that part of him growing back at the mere sight of his father.

But even seeing Niall couldn’t soothe all his fears. Their current, dangerous situation aside, Niall looked terrible. Thinner than before, definitely—weren’t they feeding him? He obviously hadn’t had a shave or a haircut in months. The shadows under his eyes had grown darker. He was wearing a suit Ronan recognized—it _was_ Niall’s—but it was dirty and ragged now, and hanging off his smaller frame. At least the black stuff was gone from his face—he’d washed it off, or best-case scenario, it had never been there. Maybe Adam had been mistaken.

Finally, he turned to Adam, who’d been silent for a while but was clearly thinking hard. “What are the odds we could break that glass?”

Adam was sitting cross-legged and hunched over, with an elbow resting on one knee, a hand holding up his head. Ronan felt terrible for dragging him in to this. Had they really been sitting in class together only yesterday, not speaking?

Adam examined the glass. “And then what?” he asked, not lifting his head. “We’re still locked in. Besides, they’d hear.”

“Go out the window?” Ronan suggested again, pointing to the one behind Niall’s head.

Niall followed his gesture and shook his head. No, the window was not an option.

Fucking great.

They fell silent again, until they heard footsteps in the hallway. They both leapt to their feet. The door opened, and there was Piper Greenmantle again. She laughed as soon as she saw them. “Such long faces!”

She walked over to the wall, opened a little door that was nearly invisible, and pushed a button. The glass wall began to rise, disappearing into the ceiling. Ronan and Adam exchanged a look. They could’ve gotten to Niall so easily...

“All right!” Piper smiled at all of them. “Ready to play happy family?”

The glass was completely gone now. Niall stepped forward menacingly, and Piper looked at him coolly. “All I have to do is scream,” she said.

Niall held his hands up in mocking surrender. “How brave you are.” God. Ronan had missed his father’s voice so much—that lilting Irish accent.

Having no other obvious choice, they followed Piper out and down the hall. “I’ve been having such a good chat with Little Brother!” she said as they walked. A chill went up Ronan’s spine.

She took them into a bigger room than the first two they’d seen, where her husband sat at the head of a long conference table, smiling at Matthew, who was beside him tucking into a plate of food like he hadn’t eaten in months. He glanced up at them briefly, and said, “Oh, hey, you found him.”

He sounded strange. Flat and emotionless.

“Yeah, we found Dad,” said Ronan carefully.

Piper locked the door behind them while Colin turned his wide, toothpaste-ad smile on them. “Come, sit,” he said, gesturing at chairs. “There’s plenty for everyone.” There were three more plates of food sitting on the table.

Adam didn’t move. Niall, behind them, breathed out the tiniest whisper, “I forgot—don’t eat—”

They heard him anyway. Piper shoved him before she moved forward to sit down. “Don’t be stupid!”

“Nothing to be afraid of,” said Colin, arms still spread out, welcoming. “We’re all friends here.”

Matthew looked up from his food again. “They _are_ our friends, Ronan. We had it all wrong.”

It still wasn’t Matthew’s voice, not really. He sounded older. His blue eyes were cold and nearly vacant. Ronan’s stomach plummeted to his shoes. Adam was right—brainwashing. They’d already achieved it with Matthew.

“Matthew?” said Niall sternly. “You aren’t lying to your brother, are you?”

Matthew grinned in a deranged, terrifying way, his mouth hanging open, showing half-chewed food. “Would I lie, Pops?”

He’d definitely never called Niall _Pops_ in his life.

 _This is all my fault,_ Ronan thought. _I should never have let him come with me. Anything that happens to Adam is my fault, too._

Matthew kept talking. “It’s Persephone who’s been lying to us. Her and Blue and those witches they live with.” His voice was horrible and harsh now.

Adam went tense. “They would never!” he shot back.

Matthew looked at him with that same icy, stoic gaze, then seemed to decide Adam was beneath dealing with. He turned back to his food.

For a moment, they were all frozen in stasis. Ronan couldn’t understand why nothing was happening—why were the Greenmantles just sitting there, not doing anything to him or Adam or Niall? They seemed amazingly unconcerned with carrying out their evil scheme—whatever it was.

Matthew finished the last bite whatever it was—turkey and gravy or something—and the scene resumed. “The Greenmantles are going to help us.”

Behind Ronan, Niall huffed out a laugh.

Matthew shot him a quick, angry glance before going passive again. “Really,” he said. “We have nothing more to fear, as long as we do what they say. Any enemies of our family can be neutralized, if we only follow them. And that begins with sitting down and sharing a meal.” He gestured grandly to the table, mimicking Colin exactly. “We won’t suffer,” he continued. “We won’t be sad or sick or—”

“Or feel anything at all,” Adam interjected. “Isn’t that right? No bad feelings, and no good ones either, if we give in?”

Matthew looked at him dismissively again. “When do you feel happiness? Only when you hide yourself away completely.”

Beside Ronan, Adam went rigid.

“It’s your differences that have made you unhappy, isn’t that so?” Matthew continued placidly. His words seemed to be having the desired affect—hurting Adam. “If only you could be like your family, they’d finally love you.”

Ronan thought about what he knew of Adam’s family and seethed with anger—not at Matthew, but at the Greenmantles and whatever they’d done. Matthew would never say these things. He didn’t have a cruel bone in his body.

“If you gave in,” Matthew concluded, “those worries would end forever.”

Through clenched teeth, Adam said, “And I’d be a brain-dead zombie. Hypnotized.”

Matthew looked mildly surprised. “That’s a rather primitive way of putting it.”

“No thoughts of my own,” Adam continued. “I’d rather die.”

Colin stepped in again. Mild, like Matthew, he said, “That can be arranged. You’re fairly superfluous here, anyway.”

Ronan took a step forward. “You’re not going to hurt him.”

Niall put a hand on Ronan’s back as if to stop him from doing anything stupid.

Piper stood back up from the table. “This is like, ridiculously tedious. Let’s just skip ahead, yeah?” She turned on a projector over their heads. Ronan hadn’t even seen it. It lit up one wall of the room. Piper messed around on her phone, and then the projector was flashing images on the wall. Eyes, vacant like Matthew’s, red around the edges. Fires burning, buildings exploding, a ticking clock—

“Don’t look!” Niall shouted.

Ronan covered his eyes and hoped Adam was doing the same.

No sooner had he done this than music started playing too. Deafening, it filled the room. It was pulsing, electronic dance music, not unlike things Ronan sometimes listened to. But he remembered his father’s other warning. _Don’t listen to any music_. Shouting to be heard, he said, “Dad, what do we do?”

“Sing!” Niall shouted back. “Anything! _Amazing grace—”_

Ronan picked up the song _. “—How sweet the sound.”_ He struggled through it, beginning to lose the thread as the pulsing, electronic beat kept cutting through his voice and his father’s. He felt sick, dizzy. He went to his knees.

“Stay strong!” his father shouted. “Is your friend with us?”

“Here, sir!” Adam called back, which was a relief.

Over the din, Matthew shouted. “Why don’t you give in? Why are you so stubborn? It doesn’t have to be this hard!”

Fading fast, Ronan said, “Sing something we all know!” Adam launched into The Star-Spangled Banner. It was a little funny to hear his thoroughly Irish father sing it. Ronan managed to focus on the combination of their three voices and felt a little better.

But then the song ended. After a brief hesitation, Adam started it over, and Niall jumped in again, but that pause had been enough for Ronan to lose the thread again. The notes of the national anthem started to match up with electronic beat in his head, and behind him Matthew was saying, almost soothingly, “Yes, that’s it! Just a little further!”

Adam stopped singing and shouted, “Sir, Ronan’s not going to make it.” Suddenly, someone was grabbing Ronan’s hand. Someone else grabbed the other. Amidst the cacophony and the confusion in his head, he realized he was holding hands with Adam Parrish.

And then everything stopped.


	7. Adam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam kissed him. It was quick and strong and eloquent. Be safe, I’ll be waiting for you, said the kiss. It promised future adventures together, too, of an entirely different kind. Please come back, it said, so we can have all that.

This time, the journey was even worse than before. Something about that much noise disappearing all at once made the void feel so much stronger, sucking up everything around it. Ronan was pretty sure he no longer existed. He was dead and in purgatory, or else the Greenmantles had succeeded in brainwashing him, and now his real self was trapped somewhere horrible.

He was alone, and there was nothing around him except darkness.

When he could feel again, he felt nothing but cold.

When he could hear again, he only heard Adam’s voice. “His heart is beating so slowly—”

Somewhere nearby, Niall Lynch said, “But it is? He’s alive?”

“Yes,” said Adam with just a slight hesitation.

Ronan tried to say, _yes, I’m here! I’m fine!_ But he still couldn’t speak or see.

“Thank God.” Niall sounded shaky. “I can’t lose him.”

They went silent for a moment. Someone was holding Ronan’s hand. He began to feel the warmth where their palms were pressed together.

“I don’t think you will,” said Adam, but he still didn’t sound totally convinced. “Sir, what about Matthew?”

“One thing at a time,” said Niall. “How on earth did you get us out of there? I’ve never seen anything like that—and I’ve seen a lot.” He sounded almost amused.

“Persephone—” said Adam faintly—“do you know her?” There was no reply—Niall was shaking his head, maybe. “Well, she’s a friend of mine, a psychic, and she’s been teaching me how to scry, which was why I was staring into the projector light back there—” Ronan hadn’t seen that— “and when she brought us to you, it’s like you were in a different dimension—”

“They’ve hidden that place pretty thoroughly.” Niall sounded grim.

“Well, I thought if I could scry back out of that space, I might be able to move us—Persephone told us about how she brought us into that dimension, by sort of skipping the middle space. I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t have done it. If Ronan’s isn’t okay...”

Neither of them spoke for a moment, but whichever one of them was holding his hand squeezed it. He tried to tell them again that he was okay, but still no sound came out.

In his polite, school voice, Adam said, “Sir, may I ask why they had you there?”

Niall still sounded grim. “They’ve got a whole cache of dreamers there, making things for them.” Had his father told Adam about the dreaming? He must’ve. Niall went on: “Fancy or impossible things for them to sell, or to make them more powerful. As if they needed to be. They were dangerous people even before they had all that. I’ve been there for months; you can’t imagine what I’ve seen. I’ve resisted their brainwashing tricks—only because I knew what they were going to try. I’d heard stories. But I wouldn’t have lasted much longer. The longer I don’t dream, well, I get sort of sick—”

“The black thing?” Adam asked. He started to explain what they had seen in the vision tree.

Before he’d finished, other voices joined them. Ronan recognized Persephone’s. There were other women too. The other psychics, maybe? Too many people were talking at once, and he couldn’t understand what they were saying. In a moment, someone was yanking Ronan’s mouth open and pouring something into it, something burning hot that tasted like dirt and oregano or something. Ronan spluttered, and the world came back. He opened his eyes and saw one of the psychic women—Ms. Johnson, he thought—frowning down at him. “Better?” she asked. “That tea’ll cure almost anything you have.”

“Does it have to taste that horrible?” he said. His voice came out weak and croaky; nonetheless, somewhere out of sight, Niall Lynch laughed.

He was too far away to be holding Ronan’s hand, but someone still was... He turned his head and saw Adam there, looking at him anxiously. “You’re all right,” he said.

“Were you worried about me?” He meant to sound teasing, but it came out sincere. Adam nodded at him, clearly still worried. Ronan’s heart seized. _Adam Parrish_ cared whether he was okay or not.

Ms. Johnson sat back on her haunches, and with her no longer hovering over him, Ronan could see that Persephone, Blue, and the other Fox Way lady—Ms. Sargent—were behind her. He couldn’t see—“Dad?”

“Here,” said Niall, off to Ronan’s left.

“Dad, where’s Matthew? Is he still--?”

“He’s still with the Greenmantles, yes.”

Ronan tried to sit up. “Hey, now!” said Ms. Johnson, pushing him back.

“We have to go get him!” Ronan said. “We can’t leave him there!”

Adam squeezed his hand. Niall said, “We will. We’re still trying to decide what’s best.”

“There isn’t time! Who knows what they’re doing to him!” Ronan felt frantic. His panic threatened to knock him out again; he got light-headed.

“Pumping him for information, most likely,” Niall said. He sounded far too calm to Ronan. “He can’t give them what they want, so...”

He could almost see his father’s shrug. This time, he succeeded in sitting up. He got a head rush, but pushed past it, turning towards his father’s voice. Adam loosened his grip, but Ronan didn’t let go of his hand.

Niall was kneeling on the ground. They were in the forest again, surrounded by pines. Ronan’s dad looked disheveled and a good deal less heroic than Ronan remembered him. Suddenly so many bitter, acerbic comments from Declan began to make sense. “This is your fault,” said Ronan slowly. He could almost feel his heart breaking. “All we could ever find out after you disappeared was that one of your business deals had gone wrong. Were you doing business with _them?”_

Niall didn’t say yes. He didn’t have to.

Ronan believed too much in virtue and honesty and good intentions. Suddenly it all seemed foolish. But... “How could you?” he asked.

“Well, now,” said Persephone, off behind them. She sounded calm as ever. “There’s no need for that.”

Blue piped up. “We can’t turn on each other now. We have to work together to fix this.”

Ronan wanted to say, _this is none of your business!_ But he didn’t. She was only trying to help.

And Adam was _still_ holding his hand. He said softly, “Ronan?” Ronan turned his attention back to Adam, who looked less worried now, more pitying, and softer than Ronan could’ve imagined him looking. “The problem is it’s difficult to travel that way, and it’s hard on our bodies too, as you can see. We can’t all go back in there. Your dad knows the place best, but if he goes, they’ll just lock him up again.” He looked to the women. “I’ve been saying I should go—the Greenmantles already proved they don’t care about me—but no one here seems to agree.”

“No, you can’t go,” said Ronan, a knee-jerk reaction. Adam gave him a small, lopsided smile.

Niall jumped back in, sounding less sure of himself than he ever had. “Whoever goes, Matthew won’t leave with them if he’s still brainwashed, and one person won’t be able to take him by force...” He trailed off. Ronan didn’t turn to look at him again.

All of them sat in heavy, uncomfortable silence for a minute, until it hit him. “Oh—you want me to go?”

“Absolutely not!” said his father immediately. “I’m not putting you in any more danger.”

But Persephone jumped in immediately, asking Ronan, “You have a bond with Matthew that no one else does, isn’t that so?”

He nodded.

Niall was not to be convinced. “Now wait just a moment, I’m their father—”

“But are you?” Ms. Johnson asked dryly.

“That is my role in their lives, yes—”

“No posturing, now, Niall, it isn’t the time for it,” she told him.

Ronan wasn’t sure whether to stay mad at his father or be offended for his sake or both. Slowly he said, “I know him. We know each other. We understand...”

“But Ronan isn’t well,” said Adam. “The trip weakened him. They could overpower him easily.”

Ronan felt a bit warmer, goofy and happy.

“Look,” said Blue. “Nobody’s going to force anybody to do anything, right? But it’s too dangerous for Mr. Lynch and everyone agrees it isn’t Adam’s job—”

Adam scoffed.

“And no one else is volunteering,” Niall pointed out, sneering a bit.

“It isn’t our job to clean up your messes,” said Ms. Sargent. “We’ve helped as much as we can. All we can do now is help Ronan get back there.”

“I’m not putting my son in danger,” Niall repeated firmly.

“ _This_ time,” said Ms. Johnson.

Niall fell silent.

Ronan was still cold. He shivered and looked up at the trees, in case they’d speak again and give him answers. But the forest was silent.

“All right,” he said. “If I’m going, I want to go now. Let’s not drag this out.” He didn’t really want to look at his father, so he turned to Adam instead. Adam was watching him a bit warily, _still_ holding his hand. Ronan forgot what he was going to say. Or maybe he’d never known what to say. He thought about so many days of admiring the back of Adam’s head and his knobby hands and his intelligence, and now that he actually knew Adam, that goofy little crush had grown into something huge and strong and insistent. How had all that happened in a day? He glanced down at Adam’s lips. He didn’t mean to...

Adam kissed him. It was quick and strong and eloquent. _Be safe, I’ll be waiting for you,_ said the kiss. It promised future adventures together, too, of an entirely different kind. _Please come back,_ it said, _so we can have all that._

 _I will, I will,_ Ronan said back. Or tried to. When Adam pulled away, he finally let go of Ronan’s hand, turned his head, stood up, and walked away, like that was all he could take.

Ronan stood shakily, and before he could go after Adam or say anything else to his father, Persephone was in front of him holding out her hand. He took it; she squeezed; he was in blackness again.


	8. Ronan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No, Adam probably didn’t love him, not yet, but Adam cared.
> 
> And maybe that was it, the one thing that could snap Matthew out of this hypnosis, and the one thing the Greenmantles couldn’t understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The power of love saves the day + Niall does not get off scot-free (but does live!)

As the world faded back into existence, Ronan heard Persephone’s voice echoing after him, traversing the long distance between where he’d been and where he was now. “You have something they don’t,” she said, “and it’s your weapon against them.”

“What?” Ronan said out loud, but the voice didn’t reply. She was gone.

What had she meant by that? Did she mean his dreaming? How was that a weapon if it was exactly what they wanted him to do?

She had managed to get him back into the Greenmantles’ building—he was in the office where he’d waited with Adam and Matthew when they’d first arrived. He was cold all over—it reminded him of the one time the pond out back of the Barns had frozen over, and they’d tried to go ice skating on it, only to find that the ice was too thin. He’d plunged in. The pond wasn’t deep, so he’d been able to get back out just fine, but he’d felt the cold seep all the way to his bones. This was like that, even though he was bone-dry.

As soon as he left the room, he heard that music again, the endless, steady, pulsing beat. Now it sounded less like dance music and more like fuzz and static. It pulled him towards it. He hardly noticed himself walking that way until he was halfway to the source of the sound. It had already begun—the hypnosis. He needed to be more careful. He needed to resist.

He kept heading towards the music anyway. He tried to vary his pace so that he wasn’t giving into the rhythm. It was harder than he’d expected. When he finally stepped into the conference room from before, he was almost pushed back out by the force of being so close to that sound. It took his breath away, even more than the kiss with Adam had.

In the room, several people were crowded around the table. Colin and Piper, the receptionist from before, some woman Ronan didn’t recognize, and Matthew.

It both was and wasn’t Matthew. He looked all wrong. He was studying Ronan with cold indifference. Something was wrong with his eyes. Wronger than before. Even as he looked Ronan over, his eyes were rolling slowly back in their sockets.

Ronan’s heart clenched. He loved his little brother more than anything. It was painful to see him this way, and Ronan was really beginning to doubt his ability to save the day.

The Greenmantles were watching him too, but the other two people in the room were insensible to him. The receptionist was sleeping. The woman was frozen, paralyzed in a way that was very familiar. She was holding a cell phone, but undoubtedly it had capabilities that no real cell phone did, because this one had come from her mind. She and the receptionist were dreamers. This was what Niall was talking about—the Greenmantles’ _cache of dreamers._ There were probably others elsewhere in the building.

He kept staring at Matthew, but avoiding his eyes, which had clearly become another tool of hypnosis. _What do I do, what do I do?_ He had no idea. Thinking of Persephone, he said aloud, “What do I have that they don’t?”

“Nothing,” said Matthew, icy and cruel. “You are only what you can do for them.”

At this, the shiny smiles on the Greenmantles’ faces widened. When Ronan looked at Piper, she was positively beaming. “Welcome back, big brother,” she said. “No more nonsense, yeah? You’re not going to be stubborn like your dad. You’re going to be smart and help us.”

“Never,” Ronan snarled. He wondered, as he had before, why they were just sitting there instead of overpowering him, tying him up or something. He realized they were just _that_ confident in their brainwashing ability, especially now that they had Matthew. They were banking on the fact that Ronan would never put Matthew in danger.

Was brute force _his_ only way out? If he just grabbed Matthew and ran, would that work? But Matthew was massive—as tall as Ronan and a good deal broader.

Matthew was eating again—cotton candy this time, of all things. He looked back up from it and said disinterestedly, “Adam sent you, didn’t he?”

It was so left-field that Ronan didn’t understand for a moment. “What?”

“It was his idea for you to come back here,” Matthew continued, alternately munching and licking off his fingers. “He knew Niall was useless,” he said, like he was making a list. “He didn’t want to come after me himself. And he didn’t want to put anyone he loves in danger, like Blue and the witches. But _you_ were expendable. He doesn’t love _you.”_

Ronan’s stomach twisted. Somewhere deep down he knew this was another trick, but on the surface, it hurt so much he felt breathless again.

“He hates you,” said Matthew matter-of-factly. “He hates you for being a slacker at school and for hitting him with the car and for dragging him into all this.” He gestured at the room, at himself, at everyone else there.

Ronan closed his eyes tight. Over the incessant beat of the music, he started to sing again, the most obnoxious thing he could think of. “SQUASH one, SQUASH two...”

Distantly he heard somebody groan, “Oh, not that.”

While he sang, he thought. He thought about Adam in the barn— _your eyes are so blue. I never noticed._ Adam in the forest— _You can’t help him, Ronan. This isn’t real... He could be hurt, he could be stuck in—wherever we were... I thought they might want moral support..._ Adam here, in the conference room, _sir, Ronan’s not going to make it_. Adam in the forest again, holding his hand, worrying about him, happy he was all right, kissing him—

No, Adam probably didn’t love him, not yet, but Adam cared.

And maybe that was it, the one thing that could snap Matthew out of this hypnosis, and the one thing the Greenmantles couldn’t understand. Ronan stopped singing, opened his eyes, marched over to his brother, and put both his hands on Matthew’s shoulders. He looked into those rolling, unsettling eyes, only long enough to say, “I love you, Matthew. Do you hear me? I fucking love you more than anything in the world.”

Something happened. His eyes flickered in a strange, unnatural way, but for a moment, he looked like himself again. It was working.

Ronan shook him. Over the beat of the music, he shouted it over and over—“I love you I love you I love you—” He loved him so much that he’d pulled him out of his head when he was too little to even know what it meant, because he wanted his sweet baby brother there in the real world with him, because he would always want that, because, because.

And then Matthew collapsed into him. “Ronan!” he sobbed.

Ronan cradled him. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

But things around them had instantly turned into chaos. “Grab them, grab them!” Piper Greenmantle was saying. “And you—go round up anybody you can find!”

Ronan said to Matthew, “Run,” and dragged him out of the room. He was pretty sure he’d never moved faster in his life. Another man appeared before in them in the hallway, and Ronan shoved him into a wall, out of their way. Because these people weren’t superhuman. They were just people. They had their tricks, but they weren’t magic. They needed other people to do their magic for them.

They bowled through a few more people, but the Greenmantles were hot on their heels. They made it to the front door and back out into the forest. Ronan had no idea how far it was back to the others. How long had he, Adam, and Matthew walked before? Had they even ended up back in the same place after Adam’s scrying trick?

He hadn’t really thought this through. How far would the Greenmantles chase them? How desperate were they to have one more dreamer?

But before he could worry about that anymore, he was back in the blackness, in the void, for the fourth time that day.

-

This time, when he opened his eyes, the only tree limbs he saw belonged to the old, sprawling oak in his own backyard. He rolled over and saw the back of his house, solid and white as always, needing to be repainted. He exhaled slowly. Was that really it? Were they safe?

And then he heard a voice behind him, with a lilting Irish drawl. “You did it—I should’ve never doubted you.”

Ronan rubbed his eyes. “What the hell happened?”

“Language!” said his mother, somewhere behind him too, but she sounded too happy to really care about his language.

He rolled back the other way, sat up, and saw his parents sitting in the dewy grass, hugging each other. Matthew was there, too. He crashed into Ronan before Ronan could prepare for impact. They fell over together. “You saved me!” he said. “Thank you, thank you—I love you too!”

“Ooo-kay,” said Ronan, pushing him off gently and sitting back up. “Anytime, all right?”

“Oh, this won’t be happening again,” Aurora said, slightly less happy than before. “Your father’s adventuring is done for a while.” She shot Niall a stern look Ronan had never seen from her before.

“Hopefully his bragging, too,” said Declan, coming out of the house, carrying a glass of water, which he handed to Ronan unceremoniously.

“Bragging?” Ronan repeated.

Declan sat down with them, putting his legs out straight in front of him. He raised his eyebrows at their father like, _Well? Care to explain?_

Niall sighed. “Maybe I’d said some things here and there to a few different people about the Greywaren—”

Declan snorted. _“Maybe.”_

Heavily, Niall added, “And maybe that’s why the Greenmantles tracked me down. They wanted to buy it.”

“Buy it?” Buy _him?_ Ronan was confused.

“They didn’t know it was a person.” Niall wouldn’t meet his eye. “I said I didn’t have it anymore, but they didn’t believe me. That’s why they kept me there so long. They didn’t just want me to dream—they wanted me to make them a Greywaren. Thank God they never knew it was you.”

“And so,” said Aurora, squeezing her husband’s hand, “that’s why he’s grounded for a bit.”

Ronan was speechless. His father was a big talker—he’d always known that. He loved his father’s outlandish stories more than anyone did. He just hadn’t known his father would tell stories about _him_ , when he wasn’t around, to dangerous strangers.

He made eye-contact with Declan. Declan’s expression said, _didn’t I tell you?_ And Ronan felt that familiar flare of anger. But he understood now. His dad wasn’t quite what he’d thought.

Only about half of him cared about that at the moment. The other half was happy, content to the bones. He finally had his family back together again. He hugged Matthew tighter until someone said, “Let’s go in.”

-

An hour later, Ronan was in bed. Apparently hardly any time had passed since he’d left his house—like they’d been in another dimension. It was only 1:30 now, he was more exhausted than he ever had been. He was just about to drift off to sleep when he heard something hit his window. And then a second thing.

The sound was familiar. Was Blue back, throwing pebbles at his window? He didn’t much feel like dealing with her, and he certainly had no intention of going out again tonight. The world could save itself this time. The thought made him smile.

But he was curious, so he dragged himself out of bed and over to the window. Down in the bushes, it wasn’t Blue—it was Adam.

Ronan’s heart started beating a little faster. He pushed the window open—it was much easier this time—and stuck his head out. He tried to sound cool. “Need something, Parrish? A superhero, maybe?”

Barely above a whisper, Adam said, “Just wanted to see if you’re all right.”

Ronan couldn’t help smiling. “I’m all right. Wanna come up? You were supposed to spend the night anyway.”

Adam came up. They sat on Ronan’s bed, and Ronan held back a million questions—about Adam’s parents, and his apparent psychic powers, and his romantic feelings. All he said was, “Do you know how I got back home? I don’t remember anything after I saved Matthew.”

Adam shrugged one shoulder. “Once you were closer to us in the forest, Persephone and I managed to pull you out of there, so the Greenmantles couldn’t catch up to you. Somehow she sent you straight home—I dunno, she’s very powerful.”

“You too, apparently.”

Another shrug—but this one was accompanied by a pleased little smile that tugged at Ronan’s heart.

The smile was fleeting. Adam turned serious. “They probably aren’t done with you, the Greenmantles—they’ll probably come looking for you.”

“At least we’ll be expecting it,” said Ronan.

But Adam looked anxious. “You need to take precautions.”

“Maybe we can rig up some protections around the house,” Ronan said, thinking out loud. “A security system, you know? Like something that gives you nightmares as soon as you’re in the driveway.”

Adam’s mouth quirked. “Could you do that?”

“I dunno. Probably.”

Adam shook his head and laughed a little, incredulous. Ronan made a silent vow to keep him laughing. Out loud he said, “Hate to say it, Parrish, but I’m about to fall asleep sitting up.”

“Oh, yeah, you should go to bed.” Adam looked around the room and said, “Did you ever get out a sleeping bag for me, or—?”

“Don’t be a shithead,” said Ronan fondly. “Stay here with me.”

This time, when Adam smiled, it was a wide, gorgeous, charming thing. Any nervousness Ronan had about what would happen tomorrow left him. He took Adam’s hand and tugged on it until they were both lying down next to each other. “Well,” he said, “thanks for getting us out of there. Twice.”

“It’s nothing,” Adam whispered back, still looking happier than Ronan had ever seen him.

“Not nothing,” Ronan said. “Don’t you want anything in return?”

Adam’s smile faltered for a moment, until he realized Ronan was joking. He scooted closer. “Just this,” he said, and he kissed Ronan again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do I always end my fics with them kissing? And is that actually a problem lol?


End file.
